Kyrie Eleison
by PlasticWings
Summary: In a mix between the Ragnarok comic & game, a young boy is caught in a battle between two powerhouses, Chaos & Loki. After he is saved by an odd Priest, he sets off to be like Chaos... the man the Priest intends to kill.
1. Juleus

**Kyrie**** Eleison**

**Author's Note:** I tried to incorporate the _Ragnarok_ manhwa by Myung-Jin Lee and the Ragnarok Online game itself into this story. I'm also trying to make it so that even people who aren't fans of Ragnarok and RO can understand it, but I think I'm failing! XD However, please enjoy. More chapters to come. (I don't own Ragnarok or Ragnarok Online, nor do I try to claim it as my own. However, I do own Juleus and the plot!)

Prontera was a big city. Prontera was a huge city. Prontera was a city filled with every kind of person you could ever imagine. Thieves, knights, priests, mages, crusaders, hunters – you name it, Prontera had it. The countless buildings, the countless streets, the countless alleyways, the countless merchants shouting out their merchandise made it a bustling center of activity.

He should have at least suspected something when he donned upon a crowd of people at the edge of the forest. He should have knew it was a sample of what was about to come. But he hadn't suspected anything. He had been walking alone in the Prontera fields with only his sword and a few apples to keep him company. He hadn't encountered a human in a long while, but he hadn't minded that much. He liked being alone. He liked listening to the sound of the animals. He was at peace without anyone else around him.

Then, out of no where, a mass of people appeared. Some were sitting, some were standing, but all of them were talking and laughing. Merchants sat among the crowds with their carts full of every kind of item, shouting out their goods. Although he was taken aback, the novice had laughed and said, "This is like some kind of convention!" How naïve.

He had managed to squeeze his way between the throngs of people a few moments after that. Sometimes, he would stop and wonder if he should strike up a conversation, but he was too shy. Before he left home, he had lived alone with his mother. When he was young, he had dreamed of becoming a fearless swordsman. A fearless swordsmen who slaughtered monsters like nothing. But he didn't even know how to carry a sword. All he knew was how to run to the market and how to bake a decent meal. The only monsters he ever saw were in books. Juleus grew up as a sheltered, unknowing little child with a lack of people skills.

Finally, after he passed a knight flirting with a beautiful dancer, the young novice found himself face to face with a giant stone wall. He had raised his head, trying to spot the top of the wall. It was there – way up there. As he wondered what could be behind it, a small frown passed his face. But he had gathered up his courage and walked through the doorway.

Then he found himself another "convention," only one that was fifty times bigger.

Juleus was already sixteen when he left his home. His mother was an old woman, who could barely even remember his name. When she passed away, he felt nothing. He didn't feel sad, or angry, or hurt, or scared. He simply felt nothing. This is what scared him most. He knew that he had loved the old lady, and he knew that deep down she loved him. So why wasn't he depressed about her passing away? He couldn't say.

Sometimes, he felt glad that she was gone, because then he could go out and be his own man. When he felt like this, he instantly reprimanded himself. He was appalled that he was happy his mother died. Finally, he had decided to travel to Izlude, where he could become a Swordsman.

Vaguely, as he stood in the south-most entrance to the giant city of Prontera, he wondered how he had come this far.

"Move it, kid!"

Juleus jumped out of the way; but in the wrong direction. He came crashing into a heavily armed Crusader. The Crusader was the highest of the high. From a novice, he had become a swordsman. From a swordsman, he had become a knight. From a knight, he had become a Crusader – a holy warrior pledged to serve God. This particular Crusader, however, looked like he was about ready to curse the lord.

"Sorry!" Juleus said, stumbling to his feet awkwardly.

With his heavy armor and shield almost as tall as him, the Crusader scowled at him. The armor around his shoulders dwarfed his head, and Juleus wondered how he could even stand to stand. However, being that this holy warrior of God seemed to stand five heads taller than him, Juleus decided against asking.

"Stupid novice," the Crusader mumbled, brushing back his short gray hair. "Out of my way, I have to get to the Central Palace." And without another word, the man stormed away.

Juleus watched him go, half-wondering what was the rush. At first, the Crusader was easy to pick out because he stood head and shoulder above mostly everybody else. But then, as the crowds shifted like a single giant mass, the Crusader was gone. But Juleus didn't mind that much. If all Crusaders were as intimidating as that one had been, he didn't want to meet any more!

He was about to turn around and go back to the forest, but something stopped him. For a brief moment, the ground beneath him, and the buildings around him all began to shake. Quickly, the thought of an earthquake flashed through his mind, but the vibration didn't seem like a natural one. None of the people around him seemed to even notice. Or if they did notice, they didn't even care. No one was looking around like he was.

So, frowning, and with some odd sense of duty, Juleus turned around and headed straight into the center of the city. The forest would always be there for him, filled with little monsters to kill. For now, he had to find out what had caused the disturbance. He was just passing an energetic young girl selling weapons when another rumble came through the city. For certain this time, Juleus knew it was no earthquake.

He was used to earthquakes. He knew earthquakes. This was no earthquake! The vibration seemed to be traveling; briefly passing under him as it headed for the outer walls of the city. It reminded him of when he and his friends used to toss pebbles into the nearby pond. The ripples traveled outward. The vibrations were traveling outward. That means that the disturbance he was searching for had to be a pebble, metaphorically speaking.

"What kind of pebble?" he asked out loud, gaining odd glances from the merchants around him.

Flushing embarrassedly, he lowered his head and continued heading towards the inner city. He passed an inn, a library, and a kind-looking woman selling milk. Since thirst was clawing at his throat, Juleus wanted to stop and buy a carton. Unfortunately, now was not the time. His curiosity would never let him rest if he didn't find out what was going on in the town square.

He was about to wish he never found out.

The closer he got into the city, the less people there seemed to be. That didn't seem right. He never did get a chance to think it over thoroughly, though, because lying in front of him was the dead body of a chimney sweeper. Juleus stopped in his tracks, staring at the dead man. A hat was on his head, with several holes going through it in a perfect line. It didn't take a genius to figure out these holes went straight through his head.

Juleus hesitated, but finally squatted to get a closer inspection. He was afraid of being too close to death, but now his curiosity would definitely never let him rest. Upon closer examination, Juleus thought it looked like some giant…thing had shoved four claws clear through the chimney sweeper's head. It had probably been instant death.

Another rumble and distant shouting caught Juleus's attention, snapping him back to the here and now. He stood up, watching a few people running and screaming in the direction he had come. They were trying to get away from what he wanted to see. Now he wanted to turn around and flee, too, but he didn't think he could. With a mind of their own, his legs began taking him closer and closer to the source of the explosions.

Juleus didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

There, almost in the middle of the city, were two young men trying to kill each other. It wasn't your ordinary drunken brawl or gang fight. This was something beyond his comprehension. The ferocity of the attacks exchanged seemed so much deeper than something as trivial as guild rivalry. What looked to be a knight, with fiery red hair was barely dodging the other man's attacks.

The young novice's eyes darted from one fighter to the other, trying his hardest to pick out their movements. They were almost moving too fast for him to watch. As the two fighters stopped moving, apparently exchanging unpleasantries, Juleus finally got a better look at them.

Although Juleus had been a stayed home for most of his life, he had spent his time reading. He studied everything from arithmetic to language to world history. Now, the wheels in his brain turned and he recognized the manner of fighting of the darker haired contestant.

"An Assassin," he breathed in disbelief.

As he watched the two titans strike, miss, move, and strike again, his mind tried to figure everything out. Here stood before him two powerhouses whose strength he could only hope to reach. The Assassin, with cold, ruthless dark eyes and a morbid armor of bones continuously struck at the knight with – claws?

Yes, four giant claws made entirely out of sharpened bones. Juleus recognized these claws now. Juleus had never seen them before, but he knew what they were. They must have been the hand that had struck the chimney sweep to his untimely death.

The battle before him continued relentlessly. Juleus began to sympathize with the knight, who seemed sorely overmatched in this fight. No matter how hard the knight struck, no matter how swift or well-aimed, the Assassin nimbly moved out of the blade's way. If the knight struck high, the Assassin ducked down. When the knight struck low, the Assassin easily jumped out of the way.

Juleus watched as the poor knight was struck again and again. As the two came charging towards each other, he feared the end. What could have started a fight as heated as this? There were too many gaps in his knowledge for him to even guess. He didn't even know their names. So all Juleus could do was watch as the knight took a blow to his stomach, blood falling from his mouth. Still, with a battered body, the knight stood again, this time with the tiniest of smiles. The seemingly indestructible Assassin had managed to be cut on his arm by the knight's blade.

Juleus wanted to start jumping up and down in victory. Finally, the knight had been able to get a blow in. He wanted to sing and shout, in happiness, but now was not the time. Before he could even pick out what words to shout in encouragement, the Assassin had healed himself. The cut was no more.

The brave knight, now closer to where Juleus was watching, was in earshot. "This does not bode well at all," he said quietly. His green shirt was tearing, and his armor was scuffed. All of his body seemed to be bruised.

"Don't give up," Juleus wanted to tell him. But it was not to be. He couldn't get his tongue to work in time before he felt another rumble below him. Being so close to the "pebble," the shaking earth almost made him fall. As he looked up he watched as what looked like a gale of energy come his way.

He didn't stand a chance.

His feet were swept from under him, and he landed hard on his back. For a brief moment, Juleus watched the blue sky above him. Then it was filled with tan brick. Broken tan brick. Falling broken tan brick that was about to smash him.

The last thing that Juleus heard before the end was that underdog of a knight screaming "No!!!"


	2. Ivaldi

**Author's Note: **Again, Ragnarok Online belongs to Gravity Corp. and Myung-Jin Lee, and the Ragnarok manhwa belongs to Myung-Jin Lee.  However, Juleus and Ivaldi belong to me, and any similarities to actual people or characters on RO are completely incidental.  Sorry!  And now, you can see where 'Kyrie Eleison' actually has a part in this story!  I adapted the move to work with the story, so deal.

**Chapter Two**

They say when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes.  So that's what Juleus was expected as he lay in the darkness.  But there was nothing.  No memories of him as a baby.  No memories of his mother.  No memories of that pig-headed idiot who lived down the street throwing rocks at his windows.  He didn't think about how he had said one day, "I'm going to be the greatest swordsman that ever lived!"  There was none of that.  No memories whatsoever.

_'That's odd…'_ Juleus thought.  _'I guess death isn't like that after all.'_

"Death?" a voice laughed from above him.  "No, death isn't like that at all.  Wake up now kiddo, you're not dying!"

Juleus's eyes fluttered open.  After all that darkness, after all that nothingness he had seen in his own eyes, it took him a while to get adjusted to the light.  Gradually, colors and shapes began to make sense to him.  He recognized things now.  Hovering above him was a face.  A kind, smiling face that he had never seen before.

"What?"  Juleus sat up slowly, holding his head.  Instead of touching skin and hair, his fingers grazed upon bandages.  "What?" he asked again, trying to remember what had happened to him.  "Where am I?"

The man turned away, dipping a cloth into a bowl of crystalline water.  When he turned back again, Juleus got a better glimpse of his face.  He was obviously a Priest.  He had dark black hair, long bangs that reached his chin covering the right side of his face.  Not only was he adorned in the long robes of a Priest, but around his neck gleamed a cross.  Catching Juleus looking at him, the Priest smiled and handed him the washcloth.  "Here you go.  You have a bit of blood on your cheek."

Juleus didn't know how to react.  Finally, he settled on saying an awkward thank you, and taking the damp cloth.  As he wiped his face carefully, minding bruises and scrapes he hadn't known were there, the Priest began talking.

"I saw you the other day, when those two men were fighting.  The Assassin and the Rune Knight.  You saw them too, didn't you?"  The Priest raised his eyebrows slightly and turned his full attention onto Juleus.

Nervously, Juleus nodded.  "I had just arrived in here – Prontera, I mean – when I felt the ground shaking.  I went to see what was causing it, and ended up getting caught in the Assassin's blast…or something."  He frowned, trying his best to recall the incident.  The memory was fleeting and hazy.  "I don't remember the Assassin reading an incantation or scroll, though.  The force just seemed to come out of nowhere."

The Priest's eyes were filled with understanding.  An understanding that Juleus liked.  "Pure cosmic power.  I'm not a mage, so I don't know all that much about it.  However, I do know that it's the ultimate form of magic."  He smiled again, taking the now slightly bloody cloth from Juleus's hands.  "Nasty little scrapes you've got.  A giant chunk of a building almost fell on you."

"…Almost?"  Juleus frowned even more now.  "But I blacked out, didn't I?"  He had to have been squashed beneath that falling building chunk.  He had thought he had died!  Then again, he couldn't recall any pain…

"You did." 

"Then how…?"

"Kyrie Eleison," the Priest answered before Juleus could finish his question.  He stood up, walking across the small room to a pair of large windows.  Throwing aside the homemade curtains, he let the bright midday sun stream in.  As the Priest set about the room tidying up, he continued with his chatter.  As he picked up a few tossed aside undergarments, he said, "It's just a barrier that protects people from some attacks.  Luckily, I've discovered that it works on falling buildings."

Juleus sat up a little straighter.  "So I didn't get hit after all?"

"Wrong."  From a drawer against the opposite wall, the Priest fished out a mirror.  He brought it back to his invalid with a small smile.  "Unfortunately, you got a little banged up from the Assassin's direct strike.  A few pieces of the building managed to get through my barrier, too."

The face that gazed back at Juleus in the mirror was, much to the novice's relief, completely recognizable.  He had half-feared that he was permanently scarred or disfigured.  The only sign that he had been hurt was the bandages across his forehead.  They had been carefully and skillfully wrapped.  He had a few cuts here and there, but they were barely there.  He was glad to see that it was still the same blue eyes he had grown up with looking back at him.  His brown hair, lazily cut to give him fairly long bangs but a fairly short back, looked messy and dirty.

As he inspected his face, Juleus realized something.  Though he had known it before, he only _realized_ it now.  This man had saved his life.  If it hadn't been for this sharp-eyed, soft-smiled Priest, Juleus would be dead.  Dead, dead, dead and never to return.  This man and his Kyrie Eleison had saved his thus-far plain and boring existence.

"Thank you!" the novice blurted out.  He scrambled to his feet and gave a little bow.  "Thank you for saving my life!"

The Priest burst out laughing.  He put a hand on Juleus's shoulder and pulled him back to standing.  "Don't mention it.  I'm not a hero.  But, if it makes you feel any better, you are very welcome."  The two exchanged smiles, which ended when the Priest suddenly remembered something.  "Oh, right!  I never did get your name."

"Ah," Juleus replied, a little taken back.  "It's Juleus," he said as he extended his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Juleus," the Priest replied, shaking Juleus's hand firmly.  "My name is Ivaldi.  Right now, you're in my incredibly humble little home."  Ivaldi pulled away and opened the door leading out of the bedroom.  As he walked down the hall, he continued talking.  Juleus had to practically jog to keep up with him.

"Right here on your right is the bathroom; sorry it's so small.  I was planning to get it remodeled last year, but I never got around to it.  Ah, here's the kitchen.  It's even smaller, because I don't cook!  I always go to eat out.  There isn't really another bedroom, but I could sleep here on the couch and you could have the bedroom if it has to come to th-"

"Wait," interrupted Juleus, holding up a hand to stop the endless stream of chatter.  "I'm staying here?"

Ivaldi blinked.  He looked at Julius as if this question was dumbfounding.  When he got his bearings on the situation, he smiled and said, "Naturally!  You're in no condition to be up and about poking little Porings with your dagger.  I'd rather not send you to an inn to stay, either.  For every merchant, there is a thief here in Prontera.  Some inns get hit every day!"

Juleus shook his head with his eyes closed, half-hoping that it would clear his mind some.  _'What happened first?  What started this all?'_ he asked himself.  _'Mom died.  Okay.  Got that.  And then what?'_  He bit his lower lip in thought.  _'Then you set off to Izlude to become a Swordsman.'_  Ivaldi watched Juleus's face with a bemused expression.  _'Right.__  …And then what?'_  His frown deepened.  _'And then you found yourself in Prontera, decided to be an idiot and find out what was shaking the ground, and almost got killed.'_

_'Good!'_ he answered himself in his mind.  _'And then this man over here saved you, brought you home, took care of you, and now intends to take care of you some more.'_

Upon reaching this thought, Juleus opened his eyes to Ivaldi's amused face.

"Figured out what's going on yet?" Ivaldi asked good-naturedly, gently brushing past Juleus to the tiny little kitchen.

Embarrassed that his emotions and thoughts were so readable, Juleus nodded.  "Yes, thank you.  Also, thank you for taking care of me..."  He shifted uncomfortably.  This wasn't right.  He felt fine; he could go off on his own.  He didn't need to burden this nice Priest anymore.  "…Though you really don't have to look after me.  Every novice gets hurt when they're just starting out, right?  I'll be fine on my own."

Ivaldi sat down at his tiny one-man dining table.  He propped his elbows up on the table, folding his hands neatly together.  Then he rested his chin on his hands, watching Juleus with that same warm amusement.  "I understand.  You feel like you're cheating by having me take care of you, is that it?  Other novices don't have level 50-something Priests taking care of them, so why should you?"

Juleus frowned.  Though it was said light-heartedly, he didn't like Ivaldi's words.  "No, that's not it.  I just feel like I should learn to be strong on my own."  He fidgeted.  Was he the one being rude, or was it Ivaldi?  This was the man who had saved him, after all.  "I do appreciate you saving my life, though," he added as an afterthought, to make amends if he had been offensive.

Instead of being angry, or cool and collected like Juleus had expected, Ivaldi burst out laughing again.  When he finished chuckling, he narrowed his eyes onto Juleus.  "I like you, kid.  You want to be strong on your own, eh?  Well, no one's stopping you.  Go out and brave the world, little knight."

"…So it's okay if I leave?" asked Juleus warily.  At first, Ivaldi had seemed wise and quiet.  Then he had seemed light-hearted and talkative.  Now he seemed to be ridiculing Juleus.  How could one person have such a diverse personality?!

"So it's okay if you leave," Ivaldi repeated.  He nodded towards the front door.  "You're free to go whenever you'd like.  I can't keep you here if this isn't where you want to be, kiddo."

Juleus frowned even more.  Who was this Ivaldi, really?  He desperately wanted to ask that, but the words that fell out of his mouth weren't right at all.  "I'm not a kid!"

Just when Juleus thought he was getting the hang of how this strange man worked, all what he thought backfired.  He had expected Ivaldi to laugh.  He seemed to laugh at the strangest things.  This time, however, Ivaldi's black eyes were dead serious and cold.

"You're right," the Priest said slowly.  "You're not a kid.  How old are you now?  Thirteen?  Fourteen?"

"Sixteen, seventeen in a month," Juleus practically snapped.  In a second, he had went from being confused to angry.  This Priest was so frustrating!  Juleus couldn't decide what part of this strange black-haired man he liked and disliked.  Was it the warm and wise part?  Or the cheerful and talkative one?  It certainly wasn't his haughty side, which seemed to think he knew everything.  What if there were more sides to this 'Ivaldi'?  Before Juleus could stop himself, his curiosity awakened.  Now he wanted to know how many different personality traits Ivaldi had.  Now he _had _to know.

Ivaldi nodded, the usual warmth returning to his eyes.  "Sixteen.  You've been on this planet for sixteen whole years.  That's not that bad at all."  He stood abruptly and walked straight past Juleus and into the bathroom.  He stood in front of the mirror above the sink, polishing the golden cross around his neck as if doing something like this in the middle of a conversation was completely natural.  "Of course, if you consider sixteen years to be a man, then I certainly must be an old geezer!"

Juleus followed him to the bathroom doorway.  "Well, how old are you?"

Ivaldi looked over his shoulder, and smiled at Juleus.  In one hand, he held up three fingers.  With the other, he made an 'o' with his thumb and fore finger.  "Just turned thirty a few weeks ago."  Without missing a beat, the Priest changed the subject.  "Now, it looks like that nasty gash on your forehead is starting to open up again, and we can't have that.  You've been moving around too much."

With the softness that Juleus had first awoken too, the strange Priest lead him back to the bedroom.  The dark wooden floor and walls seemed so familiar to Juleus already.  It was like the room was telling him, "Yes, this is where you belong."

"Now, get some rest before your condition gets any worse," Ivaldi said softly as he lay Juleus down in the bed.  He pulled the old cotton blankets over him.  The blankets were faded and worn from time and use.  "I'll see you in the morning."

And, like so many things that happened to Julius of Fayon, he wasn't given a chance to react.  Before he could complain, the curtains were drawn over the windows, and the door was shut.  However, he didn't mind being left in the dark again.  He never minded anything that much.

So, with nothing else to do, Juleus closed his eyes and fell asleep.  The thought of leaving Ivaldi's house completely escaped his mind.    


	3. A Necromancer

**Chapter 3**

Juleus sat in a wooden chair, looking out the window idly.  It had been a long seven days since he awoke in Ivaldi's home.  Although his conscious told him he should leave, he couldn't bring himself to walk out the door.  So thus far, everyday had been spent gazing out his new bedroom window, watching the busy lives of Prontera citizens.  The Milk Merchant, he saw, was catching a cold.  An archer from Payon kept trying to pawn off armor, but no one would buy.  Also, Ivaldi's next door neighbor's daughter had been grounded for sneaking out at night.

With a sigh, he turned his back to the window.  He had enough of the city for today.  But other than gazing out the window, there was nothing else for him to do.  He could read one of Ivaldi's books; he had them scattered here and there, never on the bookshelf where they belonged; but they didn't interest him.  The Bible?  No thank you.  A Guide to the Elements?  Not interested.  Vegetarian Recipes?  Maybe some other time.

Juleus sighed again.  Ivaldi hadn't even been home for the majority of Juleus's stay.  Apparently, the Priest was busier than he thought.  During the mornings, he went off to train and help others in the various fields surrounding Prontera.  In the afternoon, he worked in the Sanctuary among the pastors and nuns, occasionally elevating others to the rank of Priest.

In fact, Ivaldi only came home twice a day.  Once, in the late afternoon, when he dropped off food and ingredients for Juleus to prepare dinner with.  Then he headed back to the church.  The second time he came home was long after dinner, at which point he would take a bath and fall asleep on the couch.      

After a couple of endless minutes passed by, Juleus stood up with resolve.  He had to leave this house.  His wounds were healed, his mind was clear, his determination had been doubled.  If he worked hard, he could become a Swordsman in no time.  He was getting closer no closer to his goal by mooching off of some generous Priest.

Without even bothering to write a note explaining where he had gone, Juleus packed up his few belongings.  Only after he took a few fresh apples from Ivaldi's kitchen cupboard did he feel guilty.  This man had saved his life.  This man had put a roof over his head.  Now he was about to leave with no explanation whatsoever, and rip off a couple of apples?  Juleus sighed for what had to be the fourteenth time that afternoon.  It didn't take him very long to find a paper and pen.  On it, he scribbled in his messy handwriting, "_Thanks for everything, Ivaldi.  See you around sometime – J._"

If there was one thing that Ivaldi wasn't, it would be being predictable.  He took pride in being unpredictable.  His friends often complained that they wished he was the opposite.  They asked him to either be always honest, or always lie.  He refused and told them a little bit of both.  They asked him to either always be the comedian, or the serious leader.  He refused and often took both roles at the same time.  They had even asked him to either be charming or rude, but he was always both.  Finally, a Wizard thought she had had him figured out.  She asked him to choose either the bed on the right of their inn room, or the left, having betted that he wouldn't choose either.  Unfortunately for her, he took the left bed without a second thought and she lost a bet of 500 zeny.  So he wasn't always a middle man.

Of course, to realize that Ivaldi loved to dabble in a little bit of everything took time.  Time that he and Juleus hadn't had together yet.  Juleus hadn't been able to tell Ivaldi's truths from his lies, or his charms from his crudeness, or his jokes from his curses.  Juleus hadn't realized that Ivaldi had lied to him when he said he went to work at the church after dark.

But Ivaldi didn't blame him.  He was a magnificent liar.  Some days, he didn't seem to mind being such a corrupt child of God.  Other days, however, he would spend locked up in his home repenting.  Everyone loved him, though.  His charisma had no limits.  Eccentric though he was, everyone loved him.

He was beautifully manipulative.

At the moment, Juleus believed Ivaldi was listening to confessions of honest and not-so-honest Midgard citizens.  In reality, he was kneeling before a powerful Necromancer in a giant floating fortress above the city.

"We can't have you seen, now can we?" the Necromancer mused, absentmindedly playing with her hideously long nails.  Similar to the Assassin's, they had to be over a half-foot in length.  Her hair was dark and short, her lips glossed over in a dark shade of blood red.  She sat in her gothic throne, looking down at the human Priest kneeling on one knee before her.  "Everyone knows of the highly esteemed Priest Ivaldi.  Imagine what people would say about you if they saw you rampaging Prontera among the undead."

"Necromancy," Ivaldi replied, only half-listening to her words.  "Noun.  One: The practice of communicating with the spirits of the dead in order to predict the future.  Two: Black magic or sorcery.  In your case, it's both, Mistress Himmelmez."

Himmelmez, the beautiful, lean, muscular woman in black before him smiled a little.  "Yes, how very fitting.  Now if you would pay attention, Ivaldi, you might be able to hear my instructions for you."

Ivaldi stood up, stretching his arms.  "I apologize, but it's just your taste of décor that distracts me."  Making a face, he looked around.  "The various skulls I can handle.  The fact that below your fortress is atop a giant floating rock, I can handle too.  Your pillars that hide huge, mindless worms that eat everything in sight I can ignore.  But these throbbing, pulsating spider web-like veins," he motioned to the room and hallways around him, "could be considered overdoing it."

"You are not paid to evaluate interior design of the Dark Whisper, Ivaldi," Himmelmez answered with a slight chuckle.  "Now listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once.  Our job here is to create a perfect new world by destroying the old one.  We are here under instruction of Freya.  I have already sent my undead army upon the city, which hear, even from up in the sky."

The room fell silent as she gave the human Priest a chance to listen.  Not even the beating walls around them made a noise.  Then there, in the distance, Ivaldi could hear the bloody screams as Prontera citizens were slaughtered and became one of the undead.  Ivaldi could only imagine how quickly Himmelmez's army was growing.  Each person who died; each person who joined the ghoul army; would serve only Freya.  Freya, the dark Valkyrie.  Freya, who wanted to recreate the world in her own image.

"You know why we strike Prontera, my favorite Priest?"

"But of course, Mistress," Ivaldi replied.  "It's because of the heart of Ymir, which has been gone for a thousand years.  Odin created our entire world, Midgard, with it.  Since the heart of Ymir as one would have too much power, he spread its fragments across the world.  Of course, that's what our lovely Freya wants, isn't it?"  Ivaldi's lips turned up in an odd smile.  "Enough power to reshape the world.  Enough power to rebuild reality.  And now, I suppose, we're all gathered here today to get the largest fragment, under the Prontera castle?"

Himmelmez leaned her chin atop her hand, smiling her double smile at him.  It was neither happy nor pleased, nor was it cruel or ridiculing.  "You were always a smart boy, Ivaldi.  A terrifying, but clever boy."

Giving her a curt bow, Ivaldi backed out of the room.  "You were always a beautiful woman, Mistress.  I already know my instructions."

As he was leaving through one of the sinister-looking halls, he paused.  "Oh, and Mistress?  Do me a favor and keep your filthy undead's hands off my church, will you?  I am still a loyal follower of God."  And with that, the high Priest Ivaldi teleported out of the Necromancer's fortress.

"Juleus, we have to leave the city right now.  People are being murdered out there - Juleus?"

The house he came home to was silent.  Empty. Sickeningly, horrifyingly, and tragically empty.

 "Juleus?!" Ivaldi shouted as he scrambled through his doorway.  Sitting for him, waiting for him, on the one-man dining table was a meal.  It had been wrapped in plastic to keep it hot for as long as it was possible.  Every day for the past week, there had been a plastic-wrapped meal waiting for Ivaldi on his little table.  Every day for the past week, Ivaldi would find his clothes washed and folded, the shelves and drawers dusted, his toothpaste stains wiped clean from the bathroom sink.  Every day for the past week, he had a boy named Juleus staying with him.

Ivaldi almost didn't notice the little yellow piece of paper sticking out from underneath his dinner that night.  If he hadn't had spotted it then, he never would have until it was too late.  Being the rash man he was, he would have charged through-out the house looking for the novice.  When he didn't find him, he would charge through-out the city.  But his fortunately, his eyes glanced upon the little note waiting for him.

Dropping his small knapsack to the floor, Ivaldi rushed over to the table.  He ripped the note from under his plate.  If there was a book of world records in Midgard, Ivaldi would have just won a place in it under 'Fastest Nine Words Read.' 

"How wonderfully idiotic," he sighed aloud after he had read it twice.  Of all nights that Juleus picked to leave, he had to pick the night that deadly zombies were rampaging through the town.  Now Ivaldi was caught in a dilemma.

He sat down hard at his little bachelor table.  He had two choices, it seemed.  One, he could go out and search for the boy.  That depended entirely, of course, on the fact that Juleus was still alive.  His second choice was to carry out his instructions that Himmelmez and Freya had given him.  What were the pros and cons of either choice?  Well, if he went out to find Juleus, he could save the boy again.  But he would surely be punished for neglecting his duties.  If, instead, he decided to carry out his instructions, he would lose a charming teenager who had a mysterious effect on him.

He sat down angrily at his little bachelor table.  He had two choices, it seemed.  Ivaldi did not like having two choices.  As a gleam came into his eyes, he realized that he didn't have to have two choices.  He didn't have to see only in black and white.  After all, mixing the two got you gray, didn't you?

**Author's Note:** I know that, in the manhwa, Himmelmez's attack takes place a day (or two?) after Chaos and Loki's battle.  However, for the flow of my own story, I made it happen a week after.  (Which means that the Chaos party spend a long time in jail.  How depressing!) 

For those who have never read the manhwa, let me explain.  In volume four, Chaos and Loki meet for the first time under a misunderstanding.  Seeking misplaced vengeance, Loki starts a battle with Chaos, which was in the first chapter of this story.  In the end, Chaos and his party are throw in jail while Loki escapes.

Then Himmelmez attacks Prontera, and… Well.  Actually, that'll be included in the next chapter.  Anyway, again Ragnarok does not belong to me, but to Gravity Corp. and Myung-Jin Lee!  Happy reading!


End file.
